


The Ritual

by missus_snape



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 10:21:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17302865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missus_snape/pseuds/missus_snape
Summary: Severus Snape watches as she pours her emotion into her power. How does she affect him? What is she doing?





	The Ritual

Prompt: Her sundress flowed out from behind her, the white fabric illuminated by the sunset. The ocean water crashed in waves below her. Despite the serenity of her surroundings, power coursed through her veins.   
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Severus Snape stood outside of his cottage on the cliff, listening to the waves rock against the Cliffside. Beyond that, it was quiet. Nothing penetrated his silent vigil, his demeanor as serious as it had always been. Strands of hair blew in front of his face, he calmly swept them aside and continued his watch. His eyes were glued to her.   
Her sundress flowed out from behind her, the heavy red of a rich wine illuminated by the sunset. The breeze was soft, dusting hair across faces and sent leaves to dance against the ground. She was barefoot. Despite the serenity of her surroundings, power coursed through her veins.   
Severus wasn't dunderheaded enough to interrupt her. He simply stood, kept watch as she called her gods and goddesses to her. This ritual was as important to the frizzy haired witch as was his job to worship her was to him. So he watched, the sun beginning to dip out of sight as she rose her arms. He idly noted the arrival of gooseflesh against his shirt. Not a sound escaped their lips. The wind whipped into a harsh frenzy, the once calm wave roiled with her anguish as the sun disappeared from view. It was almost as if a switch had flipped, how fast it was over.   
Calmly, she turned to face him, warm smile that didn’t reach her eyes and only lightly troubled plastered beneath honey yellow eyes. Still, he did not approach. Not until, much like a puppet who’s strings were suddenly cut, the light behind her eyes went out and she crumpled to the ground. Tears welled beneath closed lids and a howl erupted from her throat. Her face was skyward, glaring at the dusky purple. Young she may still be, at 38 she had performed this, alone and with him, more times than he cared to admit. Rituals of the Dying were taxing on her, he knew. This one was especially so. The final battle had left no one untouched. Complications had taken many after the end.   
Together, approximately 10 years ago, they brought her parents back. A year ago, her father was diagnosed with stage 3 lung cancer. Chemo therapy and radiation did nothing. The best brewed potions were of no use. New creations that she worked herself silly on only gave a modicum of relief. They had laid him to rest today.   
Her screaming had stopped. Severus gathered Hermione up in his arms, her grief so strong it was almost palpable. They still said nothing. Quickly he carried her inside, a warm golden light coming on in the front room. He sat with her still cradled against him on the grey sofa. They stayed there until morning.

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Hi all, this is one of my first one shots to post to AO3. Most of my other work can be found on FFN. This one shot is based on a prompt from @nightmarish-reverie-prompts on Tumblr. I posted the prompt before the story so you can see it. Feel free to flame, or leave constructive criticism. I'm all ears ^.^ I am wiccan, and I personally have a ritual of the dying. I glossed over many aspects of it because its actually really difficult to write about. As usual, I own nothing.


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